Robert Browning

Autumn wins you best by this, its mute
Appeal to sympathy for its decay.

Autumn wins you best by this, its mute
Appeal to sympathy for its decay.

Better have failed in the high aim, as I,
Than vulgarly in the low aim succeed
As, read more

Better have failed in the high aim, as I,
Than vulgarly in the low aim succeed
As, God be thanked! I do not.

It's wiser being good than bad;
It's safer being meek than fierce:
It's fitter being sane than read more

It's wiser being good than bad;
It's safer being meek than fierce:
It's fitter being sane than mad.
My own hope is, a sun will pierce
The thickest cloud earth ever stretched;
That, after Last, returns the First,
Though a wide compass round be fetched;
That what began best, can't end worst,
Nor what God blessed once, prove accurst.

Day!
Faster and more fast,
O'er night's brim, day boils at last;
Boils, pure read more

Day!
Faster and more fast,
O'er night's brim, day boils at last;
Boils, pure gold, o'er the cloud-cup's brim.

For thence,--a paradox
Which comforts while it mocks,--
Shall life succeed in that it seems to fail:
read more

For thence,--a paradox
Which comforts while it mocks,--
Shall life succeed in that it seems to fail:
What I aspired to be,
And was not, comforts me:
A brute I might have been, but would not sink i' the scale.